


A Killer's Thrill

by LuciferAdvocate



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor (Movies) RPF, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, Character Death, M/M, Non-Consensual, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Content, Thorki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferAdvocate/pseuds/LuciferAdvocate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A F.B.I. cadet, Thor,  must confide in an incarcerated and manipulative killer, Loki, to receive his help on catching another serial Killer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Interesting Errand

A Killer’s Thrill.

 

Chapter 1: An Interesting Errand

A man's face with strong defined handsome features, rests against a grimly wallpaper. His head rests to it. A few locks of pale blonde hair fall onto his serious, focused expression.He is tense, sweaty, wide eyed with concentration, Thor, tall, well built. He wears body armor over navy work out clothes. A revolver, clutched in his right hand, hovers by his right ear. He raises a speedloader, in his left hand, locks into his cylinder, twists and reloads.

He is in a grubby hotel corridor, dimly lit. A guest room with a small wired pack attached to a knob. With a sudden sharp crack the knob explodes, the door bursts open with Thor as he runs around a corner, through a cloud of smoke. He shoulders aside the shattered door and rushes inside, gun ready in both hands. As Thor moves, he first sees, sitting on the edge of the bed, a female hostage, gagged hands behind her back. Then swivelling, he spots a startled male suspect standing by a window with a rifle in his hands. The suspectful man is turning towards the hostage...

Thor drops into a combat crouch, gun extended and shouts. "Freeze! FBI! "

As the suspect faces him, a strange pleading expression, the riffle rises. It rises slowly in his hands, but oddly enough, it is held across his chest, not pointing. Then another puzzling detail registers. The suspects hands are taped to his gun, but away from the trigger, he couldn't use even if he tried. There is a sudden metallic click, Thor hears, which registers with unnatural amplification. As Thor reacts, he drops to the floor, rolls sideway and the hostage pulls a revolver out from behind her back, raising it in her untied hands. She fires repeatedly, flames leap from the muzzle, the gunshots echo through the room, but Thor has come up on one knee, besides an armchair and is already firing back himself. Two quick shots which sends the hostage pitching over the bed, backwards to shudder and lie still in a haze of gunsmoke. Thor rushes to her, clamping one knee down on her gun hand, still keeping her covered in case of movement. For a few seconds they both stay still, gazing at each other intently, a shrill blast of a whistle, from somewhere is heard.

"Ok people, good exercise."

Thor relaxes, lowering his gun, the lights brighten upon the room. From a different angle, it is seen some sort of auditorium with the 'Hotel Room' and its 'Corridor' built as a training set. Coulson walks into the set, thumbing a stopwatch, on the older's man black shirt says 'FBI academy instructor'

"Odison's reaction time was excellent. Let's break. Critique in five."

A class of about 40 FBI trainees, of both sexes, begin to rise from their seats, mingling and chatting. Thor nods amiably to the 'suspect' then gives his 'hostage' a hand up sign, a good friend of his. Her broad clever face, breaks into a big smile, as they both remove ear plugs. Thor speaks, his voice is strong, deep.

"Damn Thor, how did you make me?"

Indicating at his own gun. "Never cock, just squeeze."

"I love it when you talk dirty..." she winks and grins.

As coulson joins them, Thor can't resist a small chuckle and smile at her words. Coulson frowns good-naturedly, wondering about the small chat between them.

"Tidy up Odison, the section chief wants to see you.' Coulson nods a direction then moves off. Thor looks out into the auditorium.

Special agent and section chief, Steven Rogers, sits on a chair, meters away, looking over at the group. He is strongly built, around Thor's age. He rises impassively and exits through the back door. Sif who is helping Thor unbuckle his bullet proof vest, follows his worried gaze.

"What'd I do?" he asked.

"Stay cool." Sif shrugged.

***********

Outside the FBI academy, it is broad daylight. Steven is watchinga group of trainees on the firing range, as Thor joins him. Steven looks tired, worried. His softens however, upon seeing the blonde man.

"Odison, Thor, good morning." he greets him warmly.

"Good morning Mr. Rogers." Thor nods in return.

"You're instructors tell me you're doing well. Top quarter of the class." Steven's smile widens hoping the compliment would not be minded but accepted.

Thor smiled, avoiding the soft gaze of the other, hiding his flushed cheeks. "I hope so. They haven't posted anything. " he mumbled.

"A job's come up and I thought about you. Not really a job, more of an interesting errand, walk me to my office?"Steven politely asked as he began to move ahead.

Thor nodded and they begin to cross the academy grounds, a group of trainees jog by. Into the building they go, through some corridors a few turns here and there till they reach a spacious office. Steven allows Thor to enter first before the door is quietly shut behind. As the blonde curiously gazes around the room, he can't help but notice a wall behind Steven's desk filled with newspaper articles, photos of current cases. 'Buffalo Bill Strikes Again.' 'Another Victim.'are the headline titles to these reports. Photos of skinned victims were posted next to every article. Steven moves to start looking for some papers around his desk.

"We are trying to interview all of the serial killers now in custody for a psychological behavioral profile, could be a bit help in unsolved cases." he paused as he continued to rummage through some drawer, pulling out a manila folder to look into it as well.

"Most of them have been happy to talk to us. They have a compulsion to boast, these people...do you spook easily Thor?" his actions had stopped and was now gazing softly at the man before him.

Thor shook his head slightly. "Not yet."

"You see, the one we want the most refuses to cooperate. I want you to go after him again today, in the asylum." Steven held tightly the folder in his hands.

"Who's the subject?" Thor had to raise a thick eyebrow in curiosity.

"Loki Laufeyson."

"The...criminal..."Thor barely mumbled above a whisper, his heart was beating rapidly, forcefully against his chest. Steven did not respond, only kept studying the other's facial expressions.

"I am...glad for the offer sir but...may I ask, why me?" Thor's voice was quiet, he nervously fiddled with his hands.

"You are qualified and available and frankly I can't spare a real agent right now..." Steven quickly flips through the pages, as he explains.

"I don't expect him to talk to you, but I have to be able to say we have tried. Loki is a brilliant man, so he knows all of the dodges." he pauses to hand the manilla folder to the other, pointing and motioning to every paper and item on it. "Dossier on him, copy of our questionnaire, special ID for you...if he won't talk, then I want straight reporting. How's he look, how's his cell look, what's he doing, what's he's writing. The director himself will see the report over your own signature - if I decide its good enough. I want that by wednesday, and keep that to yourself."

As Thor eyed each item and listen carefully, he couldn't help but to comment quietly, knowing full well that he shouldn't. "All this...is it pertaining to the buffalo killings? You believe, with Loki's information, it will help the case, sir?"

There was a brief silence, but a simple nod, from the other came. And yet another few seconds of silence came when Steven's palm lay to Thor's wrist, in a gentle, tender manner, which caused the blond's gaze to shot up, meeting Steven's own.

"Be very careful with Loki Laufeyson. Mr. Stark at the asylum will go over the physical procedures used with him. Do not deviate from them, for any reason. You tell him nothing personal, Odison. Believe me, you don't want Loki inside your head...just do your job but never forget what he is."

Thor blinks at those words, a bit unnerved. " And...what is that...?"

"Oh he's a monster... "


	2. Follow the Rules

Chapter 2: Follow The Rules.

An I.D card is held loosely in a male hand, Thor's picture is in the center, on the right corner: bold letters saying "Federal Investigator".

"It's so rare to capture one of these beings alive. A creature if you will, far from being a human....from a research point of view of course. Lafueyson, is our most prized asset..."

Tony Stark, gazed up from the card. The director smiles, stroking the card with his beloved gold pen. A small smirk forms upon his thick lips, as he eyes the man before him.

"You know, we get a lot detectives here, but I must say, I can't ever remember one so attractive..."

Thor, now in an elegant, navy, professional suit, hair neatly pulled back in a small bun, a suitcase by his side, stares blankly at the head director of the hospital. Stark has rudely left him standing.

"Will you be in town tonight...?" the man stands from his chair to take slow, almost predatory strides to the other. He stops to stand right behind the tall broad one. His head leans in, lips just brush beneath the ear, to whisper. His tone dropping that into a purr. "...Because this can be quite a fun town if you have the right guide."

Thor swallows dryly at those words whispered to him and attempts his best to courtly hide his distaste. His voice soft, tone as gentle as possible.

"I am sure it is a great town, Dr. Stark, but my instructions are to talk to Loki and report back this afternoon." he did not move a muscle as he spoke.

Stark frowned in annoyance and moved away, turning to open the door to his office. " I see, let's make this quick, I'm busy..."

++++

The director along with Thor, exit the room and now head through different corridors. They are on the top floors. Stark continues explain, talk to the other as he takes sharp turns around the hallways. Thor flinches as a heavy steel gate clanged shut behind him, Tony walks ahead of him.

" Loki carved up 9 people - that we are sure of - we tried to study him, of course but he' s much too sophisticated for the standard tests. And my does he hate us! Thinks I'm his nemesis...Roger's very clever, isn't he? using you." Stark comments, keeping his gaze ahead. Thor frowns, continuing to follow close.

"How do you mean, Mr. Stark?"

"A pretty young man, to turn him on? I don't believe Loki's ever seen another person other than the personnel here, in eight years. And oh are you ever his 'taste' - so to speak." the man turned to gaze at him once more, throwing a playful wink as he lowered his tone.

"I graduated from a strict college, Mr. Stark. It's not a charm school. " Thor replied.

"Good. Then you should be able to remember the rules. "

They move in through another corridor, a darker even grimmer area. Heavy grids over the lights. Distant slammings and faint hoarse shouts could be heard. They walk briskly, heading to those noises.

"Do not reach or touch the glass, nor the bars. You pass him nothing but soft paper - no pens or pencils. No staples or paperclips. Use the sliding food carrier, no exceptions. Do not accept anything he attempts to hold out to you. Do you understand me?"

Thor nodded slowly. " I understand."

"I am going to show you why we insist on such precautions...on the afternoon of July 8, he complained of chest pains and was taken to dispensary. His mouthpiece and restraints were removed for an EKG, when the nurse bent over him, he did this to her..." Taking a small piece of paper from within his coat, Stark handed Thor a small photo. Looking at it, he stopped in his tracks.Tony smirked, pleased at Thor's shocked expression.

"The doctors managed to re-set her jaw, more or less..." he pauses, then smiles, taking the photo back. "I keep him in here..."Stark turns and pushes a button, a steel door buzzes slowly and opens. Heimdall, a big impassive orderly awaits them in an anteroom. On its walls; restrains, mouthpieces and tranquilizer guns. Thor notices him moving to another barred door and quickly blocks him.

"Mr. Stark, if Loki feels you're his enemy, as you've said, then maybe i'll have more luck by myself, what do you think?"

Stark frowns, obviously annoyed once more and crosses his arms over his chest. "You might have suggested that, in my office and saved me the time."

"But then I would've missed the pleasure of your company."the blond man smiled charmingly at the other. Tony just chuckled, shook his head and eyed him before turning to leave.

"When he's finished, bring him out." he offers one last wink and licked his lips seductively at Thor as he turns on his heel and leaves. Heimdall smiles reassuringly once they are left alone.

"Hey, I'm Heimdall, he told you, follow the rules? don't get near the glass..."the tall dark man offers his hand. Thor taking the hand, and giving it a firm shake, nods. "Thor Odison, yes he did."

"Okay. Past the others, its the last cell. Stay to the middle. I put out a chair for you." Heimdall, sensing the other's tension, indicates a nearby security monitor. "I'm watching, you'll do fine."

Thor nods gratefully. He looks down the long corridor, takes a deep breath and walks into it. Heimdall watches him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Shorter chapter here, due to the next one will be much longer, were Loki is introduced.


	3. Far from Normal

What the hell was he doing here? Sure it was a great opportunity to associate himself with other federal agents, work with the toughest cases, get more experience, but...interview the most feared criminal, a dangerous psychopath, Loki Laufeyson? he had to be out of his mind. Loki Laufeyson, the one who had caused massive mischief and chaos among the city, trucking many with his unpredictable actions, fooling federals to never find his whereabouts, even now in custody was the man ever so skilled with his tongue. The many lies he's told, all for his amusement. This man was just a complete mystery, dare he say a fascination. And here he was, Thor Odison, and FBI trainee, walking into this man's corridor, to question him, in hopes of getting valuable information, anything to help apprehend another serial killer.

Thor takes slow short strides. His footsteps echo. High to his right, are surveillance cameras. On the left, cells. Some are padded with narrow observation slits, others, are normal barred....shadowy occupants pace, muttering...suddenly a dark figure in the next to the last cell hurtles towards him, his face smashes grotesquely against the bars, and he hisses.

"...uck you....I'm going to fuck you!!"

Thor flinches momentarily, but then walks on. Loki Laufeyson's cell slowly comes into view. The cell, mostly made of plastic, non penetrable glass, is surrounded by sparse bolted down furniture, many soft cover books and papers. On the walls, extraordinarily detailed skillful drawings, mostly European cityscapes in charcoal or crayon. Thor stops at a polite distance from his cell. He clears his throat, announcing himself.

"Loki Laufeyson? .... my name is Thor Odison. May I speak with you?"

Loki is lounging on his bunk, in white pajamas, reading an Italian vogue magazine. He turns, considers the other...a face so long out of the sun, defined features, green vibrant eyes, long raven hair neatly combed back. He rises smoothly, crossing to stand before him; the gracious host. His voice is cultured, soft.

"Good Morning."

Thor approaches a measured distance closer. "Sir, we have a hard problem in psychological profiling. I want to ask for your help with a questionnaire."

" 'We' being the behavioral science unit, you're one of Steve Roger's, I suspect." Loki adds quietly.

Thor nods slowly. "I am. Yes."

"May I see your credentials...?" the other asks politely.

Thor is surprised, but fishes the I.D card from his jacket and holds it up for the other's inspection. Loki smiles softly.

"Closer please...closer..."

Thor complies each time, trying to hide his fear, keeping his stern gaze. Loki's nostrils lift, gently like an animal, tests the air, then he smiled, glancing at the card. Loki gently continues with the small talk.

"That expires in one week. You're not real FBI, are you?"

"I'm still a trainee at the academy." Thor mumbled. Why hide the truth, when it was clear to the criminal now.

"Steven Rogers sent a trainee to me...?" the man's lips curl into a wide smile.

"We're talking about psychology sir, not the bureau. Can you decide for yourself whether or not I'm qualified?" Thor had tilted his head to one side as he addressed the other.

The thinner's man smile, widened even more. "mmm...that's rather slippery of you, agent Odison. Sit, please." he elegantly motioned for the chair with long slender fingers. Thor sits in the folding metal desk chair. The other waits politely, till he's settled, then sits down himself, facing him happily.

"Now then, what did Miggs say to you?"

The blond, puzzled by this question, frowns in confusion. Loki notices this and specifies.

" 'Multiple Miggs', in the next cell, he hissed at you. What did he say?"

Thor clears his throat, swallowing dryly before he replies, avoiding the curious gaze of the other, to hide his flushed cheeks. "He said - 'I'm going to Fuck you...'"

"I see. I myself...will not..." Loki's smile, turns into a grin, as he spoke, offering a teasing tone.

'Not...yet...'

If only the trainee knew the perverse thoughts that already roamed through his head...

Thor shifts uncomfortably in his chair. His mind doing its best to lock out Loki's teasing words, eyes focused somewhere else. Just a few sentences from this criminal, had created a tense atmosphere. He shifted again. His pale blue eyes, settled upon some sketches. "Did you do those drawings, sir?"

Loki's head briefly turned to look behind himself. "Yes. That's the duomo, seen from the Belvedere. Do you know Florence?"

"All that detail, just from memory?" Thor couldn't deny how mesmerized he was with the art pieces.

"Memory, agent Odison, is what I have instead of view."

A brief silence between them, then Thor takes the questionnaire from his case. "Then perhaps you can offer your view--"

"No, no, no, you were doing just fine, you'd been courteous and receptive to courtesy, you'd established trust with the embarrassing truth about Miggs, and now this hand - handed segue into your questionnaire. It won't do. It's stupid and boring." Loki shook his head slowly as he spoke, clicking his tongue against his lips making a tsk, tsk,: a disapproving noise, yet kept his curious gaze to the stunned man. Really, Thor, he had taken a liking to. What a shame it would be if he were to be just like the others. The blonde just stared wide eyed, at the other, before clearing his throat and replying.

"I'm only asking you to look at this sir, either you will, or you won't. "

There was another brief grin, as Loki quietly added. "Steven Rogers must be busy indeed if he's recruiting help from the student body. Busy hunting that new one, Buffalo Bill...such a naughty boy he is. Did Roger's send you to ask, for my advice on him?"

"No, I came here because we need---"

"How many women has he used, our bill?" The man had the tendency to keep interrupting Thor.

"Five...so far..." the trainee had no choice but to follow, and answer along.

"All flayed...?"

"Partially, yes. But Mr. Laufeyson, that's an active case I'm not involved if---"

"Do you know why he's called Buffalo Bill? Tell me. The newspapers won't say."

Thor should have been frustrated by now, by all the interruptions. Yet having the other man, the criminal, leaning against the glass, staring at him intently, with a small smirk upon his lips, intimidated him. "I'll tell you if...you look at this form."

Loki's gaze wanders. He considers, then nods.

"It started as a bad joke in the headquarters. They said, this one likes to skin his humps."

"Witless and misleading, Why do you think he likes to take their skins, agent Odison? Thrill me, with your wisdom..." Emerald green eyes, bore into him. Thor swallowed dryly, as their gazes met.

"It excites him. Most serial killers keep some sort of trophies."

"I didn't." came Loki's deep voice.

"No...you didn't..."

There was a tense pause between them. Then a smile from Loki, at this small boldness.

"Send that through." was the simple command.

Thor rolls him the questionnaire, in the sliding food tray. Loki moves away from the glass; glances at the folder now within his cell. He takes hold of it, stared briefly at Thor's curious gaze. Long slender fingers reached up to his lips, a long pink tongue flicks out to them, to coat the fingertips with saliva, to which he turns a page or two disdainfully with followed by a teaseful wink.

"Oh agent Odison...do you think you can dissect me with this blunt little tool?"

Thor swallowed dryly once more, and shook his head slowly. "No. I only hoped that your knowledge --"

The tray is whipped back at him, making him to stop in mid sentence, with a metallic clang, that makes him startle. Loki's voice, however, remains a gentle purr.

"You're so ambitious, aren't you? You know what you look like to me, with your good suit and professional look? You look like a rube. A well scrubbed, hustling rube with a little taste....good nutrition has given you length in bone and muscles, but you're not more than one generation from poor white trash, are you agent Odison...? Or what are you exactly...you don't even know that yourself. That accent to your deep voice...shows you are not from this country. Where are you from Thor? Somewhere far, a place you wanted to so desperately leave. I can see behind that blank facade of yours, you hide, run away from something that haunts you. Has haunted you for many years. You spent years of your life, with lonesome journey's taking you anywhere, getting you anywhere, getting you all the way to the F...B...I..."

His every word has struck him like a tiny, precise dart. How can this man deduce so much of him? His gaze falls, but he squares his jaw and won't give ground.

"You see a lot Loki, but are you strong enough to point that high powered perception at yourself? how about it...look at yourself and write down the truth." with determination in his voice, he slams the tray back at him. "...or maybe you're afraid to."

Maybe Thor shouldn't have said that. Maybe he was pushing his luck, would irritate the other. Surprised he was, when Loki replied calmly.

"You're a tough one, aren't you...?"

"Reasonable so, yes."

"And you'd hate to think you were common. My wouldn't that sting! Well you're far from common agent Thor. All you have, is the fear of it." the man was grinning once more, his head curiously tilted to one side as he quietly spoke. There was a small pause, then his gentle elegant voice again. "Now please excuse me, good day. "

Thor quickly mumbled at that statement. "And the questionnaire...?"

"Fly back to school little Thor." was all that Loki said.

Loki steps backwards, returning to his cot, becoming as still and remote as a statue. Frustrated, Thor hesitates, then finally picks up his suitcase and goes, leaving the questionnaire in the tray. Just after a few steps as he passes the next cell, he see's that man at his bars again, hissing at him.

"I b-bit my wrist so I c-can dieee! s-see how it bleeds!"

The dark figure suddenly flings his palm towards him and Thor is spitted on the face and neck. Not with blood, but with pale droplets if semen. Thor gives a gasped cry, touching his fingers to the wetness, stunned, he forces himself to straighten up and walk on, fumbling for a tissue as he does so. From behind him, Loki calls out, very agitated.

"Agent Odison! agent Odison! "

Thor slows down and stops. He shudders but makes the very difficult choice to turn, walk back and stand again in front of Loki who's shivering with rage. His jaw is clenched tightly, his green eyes widened and his breath slightly heavy.

"I would not have had that happen to you. Discourtesy is...unspeakable ugly to me."

"Then please, do this test for me."

"No. But I will make you happy...I'll give you a chance for what you love most, Thor Odison."

Both by now were unaware of how close their faces where, both men staring intently, separated only by a barrier of glass.

"What's that Loki...?" Thor breathed softly.

"Advancement of course." a small pause from the other, as esmerald green eyes danced, trailed up and down to take in the features of the blonde before him. "Go outside the city. See miss Mofet, an old friend of mine. M-O-F-E-T...now go!" a small smile curl up his lips. "I don't think Miggs could manage again so soon, even if he is crazy...do you?"

++++++++

The grim gothic pile of the asylum, looms overhead as Thor pushes out the front doors. He is badly shaken, almost stumbling as he rubs at his face. He looks around for and finally with some relief, spots his car. As he stumbles forward once more, his mind goes back to those taunting words. Those words that echoed through his mind, triggering something deep within him. A flashback. Faint memories of his childhood, his home...his father...how he would be greeted by strong loving arms. But then...there is something else...an event that caused for him to get away. Run away. The flashback starts to faint away as Thor remembers of where he currently is. Alone, in the parking lot, sagging, trembling, breathing hard. His face buried in his arms. Shoulders shake uncontrollably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: Phew. I guess I should warn how long this chapters will start to get. Anywho, any thoughts? feedback? I still have to think, who will be this "Buffalo Bill."


	4. Complete and File

A steady, rapid series of gunshots echoes through the firing range. Thor in a combat stance, and wearing a sound muffling headset, is squeezing off round after round. There is a moving target, the silhouette of a man approaching along a track. His shots, tightly grouped, are all finding the center chest. The target stops, quite close to him, still swaying. Thor's pale blue eyes stare at it, as he deftly works his speedloader. Then, he puts a final, emphatetic shot right through the figures forehead.

++++

Late evening, Thor finds himself in the FBI academy library. He stares at a grainy news photo of Loki Laufeyson on the computer monitor. The below paragraphs describe a scrawling past. The headline of the article: "New Horror's Terrorizes the City." Thor's calloused fingers type away on the search engine. Article after article, of the criminal, pops up. Other trainees study at nearby tables. He pauses as he scans with tired eyes, the online article and scribbles a few notes to his note pad. Briefly, he reads over his notes and articles printed. Storylines, News reports, all of Loki's mysterious past. All the articles, stated the criminal's doings, time and place of apprehension, and brief details of his past. Thor wondered for a moment....what could have triggered this man's madness? He was a brilliant man, with many degrees, doctorates, of outstanding careers. Astrophysics, scientist, psychiatry, just to name a few. Even alchemy was noted down as a hobby. So many information he had dug up. His killings, random inappropriate mischiefs...perhaps his name suited him after all. Loki, just as the god of lies and mischief....

A friend of Thor's, Sif, approaches him with an armful of books, interrupting the blond's reading.

"Phone call Thor, its your boss."

Thor nods with a small smile. "Thanks."

He rises, grabs his notebook, and follows his friend past high metal bookcases. Sif, glances over at him.

"You missed 4rth amendment law.  
Unlawful seizure and real juicy stuff. Where were you all afternoon?"

"Pleading with a crazy man, with cumm all over my face..."

She quickly stares at his friend, wide eyed, and surprised at the calmness of his voice. She figures its a put on and laughs softly.

"Damn, wish I had time for a social life."

Thor grins as Sif indicates a phone resting on the checkout desk. Thor picks it up as the other leaves.

"Mr. Rogers?"

Steve sits in a chair in a book line study of his suburban home. He turns pages of Thor's report as they talk.

"I read your memo on Laufeyson. You sure you've left nothing out?"

"It's all there sir."

"Every word Odison? Every gesture?"

"Yes, sir..." of course Thor wouldn't note down the embarrassing event of the semen splashed over his face. Steven remains silent over long minutes.

"Sir, why? is something wrong?"

"He mentioned a name, at the very end. 'Mofet'...any follow up on her?"

"I spent all evening on the databases. Loki altered, or destroyed of his acquaintances histories, prior to capture. No record of anyone named Mofet. But he mentioned to head out the city limit. My notes lead to search the catalogue yellow pages. I suspect its a mini storage facility, outside the city. Even possibly leads to Loki's suspected whereabouts, years ago." Thor paused, pleased at his discovery and somewhat expected to be praised for his cleverness.

"Well? why aren't you there right now?"

"...sir, that's a field job. It's outside the scope of my assignment..."

"Do you recall my instructions to you, Odison? What were they?" Steve replied as calm as he could, yet Thor could sense concern and frustration within the voice.

"To complete and file my report by Wednesday. But sir--"

"Then do that. Odison. Do just exactly that."

"Steve, what is it? there is something you're not telling me..."

Another small silence. Steve speaks quietly. Thor rarely dared to use his old friend's name.

"Miggs has been murdered."

Such bluntness, caused for Thor to stutter. This, he was not expecting to hear. "Murdered...?How...?"

"The orderly heard Laufeyson whispering to him, all afternoon and Miggs crying. They found him at bed check. He'd swallowed his own tongue...Stark is scared stiff, the family will file rights lawsuit and he's trying to blame it on you. I told him your conduct was flawless."

A long silence from Thor now. He knew why that...that...monster did it. Why he killed again. Was it because of him? as revenge for discourteous Miggs....? or so he suspected.

"Thor...?"

"I'm here sir, I just...don't know...how to feel about it."

"You don't have to feel anything about it. Laufeyson did it to amuse himself. Why not, what can they do? Take his books away for a while and no jello..." Steven sighs. His tone drops softer. "I know it got ugly today, but, this is your report Thor. Take it as far as you can. On your own time. Outside of class."

Thor blinks, as there is a soft click on the other line. He frowns, from the sudden abruptness. Well...what now? hanging up the phone, he turns to leave. Could he really continue this investigation on his own?

++++++++++

An orange sign, streaked with rain, identifies out a location, Thor now finds himself in. It dusk, and it is raining, the location; just beyond the city limits. A mini storage warehouse. The sign looms over a hurricane fence, topped with barbed wire. Past ahead, row on row of garage-sized cinderblock sheds.

"Unit 31, was leased for 10 years Prepaid in full...the contract is in the name of 'Miss Hester Mofet'." came the voice of an old man. Thor is kneeling next to him, before a closed roll up metal door. He takes a photo, of its sealed padlock. Mr. Selvig an older man, around the age of 60, holds an umbrella over them both. An unhappy expression, over his face.

"So no one's been here in many years?" Thor opens the padlock, using a ring of tagged keys. Then sets aside, both keys and lock.

"Not to my knowledge, privacy is a great concern to my customers, but if you say this is an F.B.I matter..." Mr. Selvig mumbles.

"I won't disturb anything Mr. Selvig, I promise. Be gone before you know it." Sliding his camera over a shoulder, he tugs at the handle, but the door won't budge. Another tug, harder. No good. Mr. Selvig stops to help, puffing hard but its firmly stuck. Both sigh in frustration.Thor frowns for a moment, then crosses to his car, which faces the shed, reaches in to turn on the headlights, Selvig blinks from the sudden brightness. Thor, then opens the trunk, rummaging inside, and returns with a bumper jack, a flashlight, and a rubber floor mat.

"Would you hold these, please?"

He gives the other the flashlight and camera, drops the mat on the ground, and sets the bumper jack in place, under the center of the door. He pumps up the door handle, the door squeaks slowly up, but it won't go higher than 18 inches, despite all of his exertions. He spreads out on the rubber mat, on the cement, takes the flashlight from the man, then lies completely on the mat. from the interior of the shed, Thor peers under the door. He reaches in, makes a sweep with his flashlight, and catches a glimpse of shadow outlines. Boxes, and ..the flattening tires of a car. Thor hears the sound of the rain on the tin roof, and other noises too. Small rustlings. He shifts and starts squirming under the door.

"You're going in there?" Selvig asks.

Thor pokes his head back out again, reaching to take the camera from him. He hands him a card, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Mr. Selvig, if this door should fall down-or anything else-would you be kind enough to call this number? its our office. They know you are with me...do you understand?"

"Might I suggest tucking your pants to your socks? to prevent mouse intrusion." the older man quietly suggested, watching the blond and the shed, warily. Thor, quickly nods. "Good idea."

The storage's shed, is very dark, now Thor's focused gaze. He squirms on his back, through the narrow opening. As he squeezes all the way in, he snags one thigh on the metal edge of the door. He curses softly, shining his flashlight to his ripped jeans. There is a small streak of blood. He shines his light around. In its narrow beam, he sees spiderwebs everywhere, high stacks of cardboard boxes, a few dusty pieces of furniture, the big car, oddly long and tall, covered with a tarp. Thor crawls a bit further. There is hardly room to stand, but he finally manages to wiggle upright, clawing away cobwebs next to the car. Holding his light under one arm, he takes several photo's of the shed's interior. Then, slinging his camera over his shoulder, he folds back the tarp resting on the roof. The resulting dust of clouds, make him cough. The car, or rather a mini van, is very dusty, despite the tarp.

Curtains close off the back passenger compartment, but there is a narrow gap in them. Thor peers in through the gap, aiming the flashlight. As the thin flashlight beams, it picks out, to Thor's gaze, he can notice the broad back seat, a crumpled lap rug on the floor... and then a pair of women's shiny high heeled shoes. Above these, the hem of a fancy satin evening gown and a pair of pale stockinged legs. Thor recoils, alarmed, and then steadies himself. He leans down with his camera, and takes a picture through the gap, then tries the door handle. Locked. So is the front door. He looks around, aiming his light, and locates a tangle of coat hangers, sticking out of a carton of boxes. He pulls out, one of these, straightens it quickly, and bends the tip into a hook. As he jams this tool inside the join at the top of the back passenger window, he fishes around, till he can snag the inside door latch, pulling it up. A satisfying click.

Thor opens the door -- it hits stacked boxes, and won't open far. Then very cautiously, he leans inside, aiming the flashlight. The moving light beam, reveals more of the evening gown, a pair of hands, in white-elbow length gloves, one rests on the lap, the other atop a large, beaded, drawstring evening bag...thick strands of costume pearls over the breasts...and finally, the white neck stub of a female mannequin. No face or head. Thor sighs with relief. He takes a couple more pictures, then eases himself inside, onto the back seat. The springs squeak loudly. One glove hand slides off the lap, brushing his thigh. Thor startles a bit, then pokes the gloved arm, hard. He peels back a bit of glove revealing the white synthetic elbow. He smiles, shaking his head at his own jumpiness, as he reaches over the mannequins lap to loosen the evening bag's drawstring.

A severe human head stares back at him, as the beaded material slides away...

Thor lurches back, gasping loudly and several long heart-pounding moments pass before he makes himself look more closely. The head bobs gently in a pool of alcohol, in a laboratory specimen jar. It is a man's head, but grotesquely transformed by the addition of heavy make-up, earrings and a sodden wig, into a woman's face. Over the years, the make-up has smeared badly and the pupils have gone almost milky white.

Thor, starring at this terrible thing, and is pleased to find himself quickly regaining control.


	5. Allowed To Persuade

Chapter 5: Allowed to Persuade.

The hours have gone by, and its night time. A loud clap of thunder, a flash of lightening illuminates the eerie towers and barred windows of the asylum. Thor exits his car, runs through the heavy rain the main entrance, where a guard waits for him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Minutes later, the trainee is in Loki's corridor, the hallway dimly lighted.

"It's an anagram, isint it, Mr. Laufeyson?"

Thor, with his wet long blond locks plastered flat across his face, is sitting on the corridor floor, next to the criminal's cell.

"Hester Mofet....you rented that place...?" 

From Thor's perspective, the other is lost in the shadow, not visible to his view. He doesn't respond. Thor tries again.

"You put those things in there, paid for advanced, ten years ago....why? Mr. Laufeyson..?"

The food carrier, suddenly wishes out of the cell, making him jump. In its tray, is a clean folded white towel. He hesitates, then reaches and crosses over for it. "Thank you..."

He sits again, rubbing his wet hair, wiping away any water on his face. When Loki finally speaks, he's on the floor too...a deeper hunching darkness in the shadows, the light of the corridor, dimly illuminating him.

"You're bleeding has stopped."

"How did--" Thor stops in mid sentence. "It's nothing. Just a scratch." 

"Why don't you ask me about Buffalo Bill." Loki quietly adds.

Thor, surprised for a moment, asks in equal quietness. "Why? do you know something about him?"

"I might. If I saw the case files. You could get that for me." 

"Why don't you tell me about 'Miss Mofet' ? you wanted me to find him. Or do I have to wait for the lab...?" 

Loki sighs briefly. "His real name is Benjamin Raspail. An old acquaintance of mine, whose romantic attachments ran to, shall we say, the exotic...? I didn't kill him, merely tucked him away, very much as I found him in that car, in his own garage." 

"If you didn't kill him, then who did...?"

"Who can say?" The other shrugged. "Best thing for him really. The poor man struggled, was getting nowhere with his life."

Thor grimmaced. Getting uncomfortable with the man's cold tone."Wouldn't it have been easier, to just leave him for the police to find?"

"And have them clomping about in my life? Oh dear no...at that time I still had certain private amusements of my own." a small pause from the criminal, then he quietly asks. "How did you feel when you saw him, Thor." his green eyes were distant, not really focused on the blond's widened stare. The trainee nodded, nonetheless. 

"Scared, at first. Then exhalirated..."

"Ahh...why?" came the soft voice of Loki.

"Because you weren't wasting my time." 

A small smile crept upon Loki's lips. "Do you have something you use, when you need to get up your courage? memories, scenes from your early life?"

"I don't know, next time I'll have to check." Thor replied quietly. It made him ponder for a moment.

"Steven Rogers is helping your career isint he? apparently he likes you. And you like him to."

The question was sudden. Thor blinked once, twice, carefully choosing his next words. "I never thought about it."

"Your first lie to me Thor. How sad. Tell me...do you think Rogers wants you sexually? do you think he visualizes...escenerarios, exchanges...?Fucking you?" Loki's tone had droped as he asked. Each word spoken as a purr...

Thor clenched his jaw. His gaze falling into the floor. True, he did like Steve. The two of them had been good freinds for many years now. No matter their relationship of student and boss, Steven always did respect him as a person. Even accepted friendly hangouts. Friends, they always acted as simple friends. On rare occasions, did Thor believe the other flirted with him. Faint, wonderful memories, came back to him. And to hear Loki's words, to think Steve wanted him, desired him...oh gods...he was not thinking of Steven that way...not right now...

Thor shifted uncomfortably on the floor, groaning softly.

"My words...they arouse you, don't they? you haven't answered me Thor..." 

The louder voice broke his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw vibrant green ones staring intently at him. He cleared his throat before answering. "I do not have to answer your question Loki, and it is sort the thing Miggs would ask." 

"Not anymore...surely the odd confluence of events hasent escaped you Thor. Rogers danglea you before me. Then I give you a bit of help. Do you think its because I like to look at you and image how good you would taste...." Thor could swear, Loki was looking at him lustfully.

"I don't know...is it?"

"Or doesent thus all begin to suggest to you a kind of...negotiation? There is something Rogers can give me and I want to trade for it. I even wrote to him, offering my help, but he hates me, so he won't deal directly." his gaze wandered, Loki turns the dim light on his cell. As the cell lights rise, Thor can see that the cell has been stripped bare. His books, drawings, furniture, is gone. Thor stands startled. Both of their gazes meet. 

"Punishment, you see. For Miggs." There was a long pause between them. Thor unsure of what to say, asks quietly..

"Who killed Raspail sir?....you know, don't you..?"

Loki's lips curl into a smirk. "I'be been in this room for eight years Thor, I know they will never ever let me out while I'm alive. What I want is a view. I want a window where I can see a tree, or even water. I want to be in a federal institution, away from Stark, and I want a view. I'll give good valuable information for it. Rogers can do that for me, but he won't. You persuade him." 

Thor blinks. He replies with a quiet whisper soon after. "Who killed your acquaintance?" he was not about to do what the other asked.

To Thor's surprise, the raven haired man finally answers his questions. "Oh a very naughty boy, someone you and Steve are anxious to meet."

Thor frowns, his voice is incredolous. "Buffalo bill? Bill killed him all those years ago? that's impossible."

Loki only smiles enigmatically at him. "Who is he stalking right now Thor? I wonder, don't you? How many more young women will have to die before you trade with me?" 

Thor stares wide eyed, unsure of how to respond. He repeats the words quietly, nonetheless. "Trade...with you...?"

"I should ask for more. Ask for a sacrafice...claim something...or someone to be precise..." Loki's face had inched closer to the glass with a predatory gaze causing Thor to tense and shift nervously on his feet. "I will allow you to approach Steven. Convince him with your charming ways...I will allow you...only for my convinience and only for that." The predatory stare is still on the other. The Esmerald green eyes roam up and down the broad frame of Thor. The tall man continued to shift uncomfortably, still unsure of how to answer the criminal. He turns on his heels, to walk away, out of the corridor. Out of this asylum, away from this monster. He was certain that Loki's gaze was still on him, following his every step. He needed to get out of this place. As soon as possible.

 

+++++++++++++

At nighttime hours, the rain had stopped. It had been replaced with a sift drizzle. Through the internal view of an apartment, a big-bones woman, with long brown hair, fiddles around the apartment. A cigarette in her hand. She plops down on the couch, and flicks on the Tv. Her cigarette finishes as minutes go by. She groans and stands, knowing that she needs to retreive another pack of smokes from her car. She soon exits the building and makes her way to the parking lot. As she straightens, when she closes the four to her car, a bag held in her hands, she sees, a few feet away, a man, standing at the open rear door of a brown panel truck. The man's right forearm is in a cast and sling. He is struggling, unsuccessfully to hoist an armchair into the truck. She hesitates then crosses toward the man.

"Help you with that?" she offers.

"Would you? Thanks..." He replies softly. His voice is quiet. Almost odd, strained. A fog lamp, set on the end of the ground, distorted his feauttures from below. She can't get a good glimpse of his face. He is thin, above average height, most likely in his mid 30's. She sets down the bag, then together, they easily lift the chair into the truck. 

"Let's slide it up. You mind?" the man timidly asks. He climbs inside the truck and grabs the armchair foward. Out of the corner of his eye, he gazes upon her. Suddenly, in the shadowy dark, he clubs her over the back of her head, with his cast. She loans and slumps unconscious, sliding off the armchair, to lie on her stomach. The man pulls off his cast and sling, tosses them aside then hops put of the truck, grabs his lamp and climbs back inside, sliding the door shut. Soon after, he bends over her face. He hears her shallow breathing.His shaky hands begin to roam through her back. Soon, he carefully slits her blouse. A wide smirk spreads across his lips as he strokes her bare skin, delicatly, happily.


	6. Such Words

“My words...they arouse you don’t they..?”  
Those words. The taunting teasing tone in them. The pale lips that curled at the end of that simple sentence...  
Damn him...damn that criminal...that...that monster!  
Why couldn’t he get the man’s voice out of his head? Was he right? Was Loki right..?  
Steven...just listening Steven’s name brought heat to all of his body, alerted his senses, and caused some...stirrings. Thor groaned. He had charged into his apartment, made his way to his room and was now lying upon his bed, staring idly at the ceiling.  
It was 3:00 am in the morning. He couldn’t sleep. For hours he tossed and turned creating a mess in the bed. The bed sheets tangled around his frame and feet. His thoughts kept going back and forth from Steven to...Loki...  
Steve…his good old friend Steven. Faint memories began to come to him. The day they met, how he was the only one who welcomed him warmly into this city. Years ago, everything was so new to him. With no friends nor relatives, and with trying to get into criminal school, he was all alone. Steven many times told him, that they could relate, for he was also so lost, a new city for him as well. An accidental bump into each other was all it took for a friendship to start. One a freshmen student, the other an FBI agent. Only days after meeting did the two of them right away clicked, sparks flew between them. Soon enough the two strangers became good friends and often socialized. Out to bars, clubs, friendly dining. Just a few months and they were already the best of friends. On rare occasions did their playful manners could be seen as innocent flirting. Thor did not know when or how their bromance did became something else. Something he was certain both he and Steve could feel a mutual feeling. The memory was still so fresh in his mind, that Thor’s lips curled into a wide smile as it came to him. One night of drinks, perhaps both of were heavily drunk, so unaware of their actions that one second, what had started as a friendly conversation, was soon forgotten when their laughing selves inched closer to each other.  
Their lips brushed, hands reached out for one another, and one minute they were sloppily kissing, were outside slamming each other to walls, hungrily devouring their lips. Rough hands pulled on the clothing, rain soaked their heated bodies. Both men showed equal hunger and passion for each other.

And then, just as it had started, it had ended. Thor did not know if both had moved apart at the same time, but he liked to believe that, that was the case. There they stood, soaked, lazy hands running over half naked bodies, gazes meeting softly with one another, showering under the cold outside rain. A few days later, from Thor’s perspective, everything seemed normal between them, as if the sudden assault to each other the other night full of arousal and hunger, never happened.  
Or...  
It was just a normal occurrence between them, he guessed. He was glad, happy that their good friendship continued. Yet when they had to part ways, for personal and work reasons, just as when they had recently reunited as trainee and boss, Thor could not help but feel his friend...different. Steven had become distanced, somewhat cold. Though at times, Steve did show his tender sweet side, the blonde came to love.  
So it was surprising to think Steven could image him, Thor...fantasize about him...?  
Although that day, was never asked or talked about, or brought into a conversation, Thor was certain Steven thought about it as much as he did. As these thoughts kept circling his mind, Thor could feel his skin begin to flush.  
His whole broad frame began to tingle, shiver as Loki’s words once more haunted his mind. Was he really aroused by those words...?  
Did Steven ever want him? He nipped onto his own lower lip.  
Steven...  
There was a sudden twitch on his lower nether regions. Oh god…Thor was not getting aroused thinking about Steven and what could have been...  
What Loki implied...  
He shifted uncomfortably in his bed, his gaze still fixated on the ceiling. His pupils began to dilate, eyelids began to feel heavy as warmth began to envelop his body. Unconsciously, his eyes began to flutter close, calm breathes began to steadily increase. Thor’s palm slowly moved to start caressing his own bare chest. Images of his friend looming over him began to occupy his mind.  
Steve’s lips brush over his own...  
Thor’s lips parted upon imagining the other’s soft ones kissing his...softly, tenderly. Thor’s hand trailed lower, picturing it as Steven’s, to grasp and clutch the flesh of his abdomen.

If Steven were to want him...to fuck him…or even... he take Steven himself…  
Steven would explore, caress his whole frame with gentle touches, pale pink fingers would reach special sensitive areas. His friend would begin to kiss, nip, and suck upon the flesh of his neck. Thor tilted his head back, a small moan escaping his slightly parted lips as his own hand roamed lower to ghost his touch over his half erected flesh. By now Steven’s body would be completely over his. He imagined how the other’s hips would be grinding, rubbing their arousals against one another. Thor was slowly palming himself, groaning softly at his own actions. His calloused fingers slide beneath the boxer briefs to caress his hardened length. Fingertips teased the sensitive head, making his body jolt from the delightful pleasure.  
With slow long strokes, Thor bucked his hips into the air, the moans emitted, were becoming more audible. Steven...his lips would be continuously nipping, sucking and abusing his neck. The hips would add wonderful friction to his throbbing length. Thor was now fully stroking himself; the slow caresses had become vigorous. Eyes were tightly shut. Only Steven was on his mind.  
The fleshes were frotting against one other. Steven had pulled away to lustfully gaze at him, the blond brows were furrowed in concentration, the lips slightly parted, quiet moans released. The friction to both their lengths was rougher, the pleasure intensifying. Then in Thor’s fantasy, Steven’s hand was upon both of their flesh, quickly stroking them together, a thumb brushing over the leaking heads.  
Thor’s lips were widely opened, gasping and panting heavily. He could feel warmness starting to pool at the bottom of his belly, his release starting to rapidly form. In the clouded thoughts of his aroused lustful mind, Steven’s image began to fade. The handsome soft features fading into strong thinner defined ones. Blonde hair became long, raven locks adorned pale cheeks and thin shoulders. Steve’s broad frame was thinner, the skin paler. The soft quiet moans that were being produced by the other had completely quieted down. And the big palm that caressed and stroked, was replaced by the image of a slender one. Long fingers worked teased and caressed every inch of the throbbing erect fleshes. The blonde’s gaze was so clouded, so hazed with lust and desire that his mind began to echo with Loki’s words once more. The jerking movement of his own hand had lost its rhythm. He was stroking himself rapidly, groaning, and moaning louder and louder with each touch, each passing second. Loki, the criminal, the monster, now fully straddling Thor, leaned down, inclined his head close to brush his pale lips over the man’s cheek, warm breath ghosting over the ear. Just a whisper of his name was all it took to trigger his long awaited release.  
The muscles of his abdomen clenched and with a couple of two or three more rapid vigorous strokes and he came, gasping and moaning loudly, throwing his head back and arching his back in pure ecstasy. The flesh twitched and spilled onto said hand, pale blue eyes rolled onto the back of his head as waves of pleasure overtook his whole frame. Only seconds later, did his actions ceased and just laid there, trying to regain his breath, staring at the ceiling idly.  
Had he just...pleased himself thinking about Loki...?  
No! it was Steven who first occupied his mind!  
But then...why did that monster haunted his thoughts at the last minute of his climax? Truth be told, the man did intrigued him, had been on his mind for the past following days. Could there be a reason for it..? Was it attraction? He was not entirely sure of what Loki stirred within him.  
He was even afraid to admit to anything...  
Well for now it was late, in a matter of hours he would be up and an unexpected release would surely coax him to relaxation and much needed rest.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

In the FBI Academy, the interior of a classroom, a blurry image gradually sharpens on a large video screen. Objects in evidence bags are shown, two pieces of fabric.  
“Electron Microscopy, reveals fiber “signatures” that are nearly as distinct as fingerprints...”the professor starts with his lecture.   
Thor sits at a long table with other trainees. Each one has his own microscope. Thor is tired, hunched over, but straightens focusing on the lecture. Suddenly Coulson, the arms instructor, quietly sticks his head in the classroom. “Thor Odison, are you in here..?”  
+++  
Thor and Coulson walk briskly down the hall, passing other trainees. He carries a small bag in his arms. “Get your field gear, take stuff for overnight; you’re going with Roger’s.”  
“Where..?” the blonde quietly asks.  
“Some fishermen in the west found an undentified girl’s body. It’s a Buffalo-Bill type situation. Been in the water about a week and Steven needs somebody that can offer insight and help. Think you can handle it?”  
Thor ponders for a moment, and blinks slowly. “I will need some kits. A new camera perhaps...”  
+++  
It had only taken minutes for Coulson to supply the trainee with everything needed, and now they found themselves in the fire arm’s director Cherokee. Coulson steers as they pass hangers, parked planes and airstrip. Thor holds a big fingerprint kit and weekend bag.  
“Roger’s is pretty tough on you, isn’t he..? Impatient..” The man breaks the silence by asking softly.  
“Sometimes..” Thor replies in the same manner.  
“He’s got a lot on his mind besides Buffalo Bill...he might let you in on some personal info..”  
Thor nods as they stop near an ancient rather dilapidated beechcraft. Its door is open, the twin props and beacons already turning. Coulson turns to him, holding out a small canvas bag. “You’re going in the field, so you gotta have a full kit. Take this its my own...”  
Thor opens the bag given and stares at the big blue gun nestled in its shoulder holster. He looks up at him, touched.  
“Wear it, don’t leave it behind. Dry fire it whenever you get the chance.”  
Thor blinks rapidly, dumbstruck, really not expecting such a gift. “I will...I promise...” he says and smiles softly.  
“Listen, I hope you never need a thing I have taught you but you’ve got something...Steve sees it, I do too. If you ever need to, you can shoot.” Coulson adds. Thor nods and climbs out. Their gazes meet briefly, both smile and wave.  
+++  
An hour or so later, Thor finds himself on a plane. Thor’s gaze is distant. His eyes are lazily unfocused on the far below landscape, out the plane’s window, wisps of clouds opaque a quill of farms. He turns from the window and looks at the folder on his lap, the cover reads: “Case File: Buffalo Bill.” Thor is moody, distracted, he hesitates for a moment then opens the file. His eyes begin to scan the information. Police reports, some handwritten...typed lab reports Autopsy protocols”,”Histamine analysis”... there are grainy enlargements of bullet slugs, showing matched grooves and then a stack of victim photos.  
The first one taken from a good distance away. It shows a nude female body, face down on a pebbly riverbank surrounded by a bit of litter. Thor hesitates once more, and then flips at this photo to look at the next one, it makes him flinch, just slightly.  
Quickly he turns through several more photographs, trying hard to concentrate. “He keeps them alive for several days.” Comes Steven’s quiet voice. Steven is standing over him, swaying with the plane’s motion. Steven sits and removes his sunglasses, he rubs his eyes.  
“Why, we don't yet know... There's no evidence of rape or physical abuse prior to death. All the mutilation you see there is post-mortem.” A pause, then he glances at Thor.”So. Three days. Then he shoots them, skins them - and dumps them. Each body in a different river, in a different state, downstream from an interstate highway. The water leaves us no fingerprints, fibers, DNA fluids - no trace evidence at all. That's the first one...”

A color photo in Thor’s hands, it shows a pretty plum cheeked brunette, an optimistic smile upon her lips. “A big girl, like all the rest. Went about 160... Her corpse was the only one he took the trouble to weight down, so actually, she was the third girl found. After her, he got lazy...” Steven speaks once more as Thor stares girl’s face. Lost in thought, moved. Steven pulls out a map from the file and spreads it out. It shows the eastern U.S with widely spaced handwritten drawings/markings. A long slender finger points to a specific spot.

“This new one, today... washed up here.” he marks with a Flair pen.“There's no correlation at all between where they're kidnapped and where they're found...?” the blonde comments quietly, in thought he shakes his head. “What if - what if you trace the heaviest-traffic routes backwards from the dump sites? Do they converge at all?”

“Good idea, but he thought of it, too. We've run simulations, using different vectors and the best dates we can assign. You put it all in the   
computer, and smoke comes out. No, this one is different. This one has seen us coming...”

Hours later, the captain and his trainee, find themselves in a rental car. Steven steers, following a highway patrol car along a winding mountain road. Thor has the file open on his lap. He glances at the other, inscrutable behind his sunglasses.

“Talk about him, Odinson. Tell me what you see.”

Choosing his words carefully, Thor speaks. “He's a white male...And he's not a drifter - he's got his own house, somewhere. Not an apartment.”

“Why...?”

“What he does with them - takes privacy... Time, tools... He's in his 30's or 40's - he's got real physical strength, but combined with an older man's self-control. He's cautious, precise, never impulsive... This won't end in suicide, like they often do.”

“Why not...?”

“He's got a real taste for it now. And he's getting better at his work.”

A small pause from Steven, impressed. “Maybe you've got a knack for this...I guess we're about to find out.”

Thor quietly, evenly, replies. “Like I have a "knack" for Laufeyson?”

The Captain studies him a few moments, measuring his anger. “Okay, Thor. Let's have it.”

“You haven't said a word today about that garage. Or what I found there.”

“What should I say? You did fine work. We'll wait on the lab.”

“You knew. You knew from the start that Laufeyson held the key to this... But you weren't up front with me. You sent me in to him naked....”

A pause from Steven. “Are you finished?”

“He starts this...buzzing in me, in my head. He makes me feel violated...You used me, Steven...”

A shadow of regret passes over Steven’s face, but he answers sternly, quietly, as soft as possible. “Number one, maybe there's a connection, maybe not. Lying and breathing are the same thing to Laufeyson. Number two, if I'd sent you in there with something to hide from him, he'd have known it, instantly, and he’d never have trusted you.”

He starts to mumble something, but then is silent. He is right. By now the two cars are enter a tidy little town, tree lined streets, wooden houses, one-story shops, mountains in the background of the town. They slow, turn, ease into the it. And then as Steve continues gently, he places his hand over Thor’s own, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Number Three, I didn't bring you along today just because you can do first-rate forensics. If Laufeyson is becoming part of this case, you've got the most current read on him. And Number four, you don't have to like me, or the way I do things. But you do have to keep a cool head. Especially now... Because from here on out, you'll know everything I do. Just...Remember I still care about you..Are we straight on that?”

Thor nods, silently; it's as close to an apology as he's likely to get. He turns to stare out the windshield. Just ahead of them, the highway patrol cruiser noses into a curb, next to other police cars, facing a big white frame house. Its sign reads "Potter Funeral Home." Two troopers climb from the car. Steven steers and parks too, then kills the engine. He turns to his friend, removes his sunglasses, and gestures to the case file.

“You think about him long enough, you get a feel for him... Then, if you're lucky, out of all the stuff you know, one little part of it tugs at you, tries to get your attention... You let me know when that happens, Thor. Live right behind your eyes today, don't try to impose any patterns on this guy. Just stay open and let him show you...”He smiles, still holding the broad hand, the thumb stroking over the knuckles, making Thor fully face him and smile in return.

One of the troopers, impassive in his sunglasses and hat, peers in through Steven’s window. Steven nods to him, and then turns back to Thor.

“School's out, Odinson.”


End file.
